


A Small Rebellion

by wincechesters



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wincechesters/pseuds/wincechesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In-Panem AU written for Prompts in Panem AU Week, Day 7.</p><p>Katniss returns from the 74th Hunger Games as the District 12 Victor. Her District Partner Gale Hawthorne, who volunteered to take the place of Peeta Mellark, died in the effort to make sure she made it home.</p><p>Now she is haunted by the Games, trying and failing to adjust to life without Gale, and attempting to process Peeta’s confession to her before the Games. But at least she is home.</p><p>Little does she know that President Snow has other plans for her…</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small Rebellion

The train slides smoothly to a halt at the station. Home. I wonder if I will feel like the Games are really over, when I finally set foot back on District Twelve soil. It feels as if I have been gone a lifetime. I know that a different Katniss Everdeen will step off this train than the one who set foot on it those weeks ago when they took me away to compete in the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games.

I don’t know how I feel about coming home. I am glad, for Prim’s sake, that I am the one who gets to return to her family. I just can’t help but think of those who are now missing from theirs. Rue. Gale.

I can’t, I won’t think of Gale. Gale, my best friend. Gale, who volunteered in the place of Peeta Mellark so that he could keep me alive in the Games. He risked his own family, and mine, in that manoeuvre. I was so angry at him for so long. But after watching the replay of the Games, I know that he is the reason I made it home. The reason I didn’t have to face Cato, the brutish Career Tribute from District Two.

His gift to me, to Prim. But now I have two families to look after, and I don’t even know if I am whole enough to look after one. 

And then there is Peeta Mellark himself to contend with.

I step out into the sun, flanked by Effie and Haymitch and I’m greeted by a huge cheer. It’s been so long since District Twelve had a Victor, or really any reason to celebrate at all, so I smile for them, for the cameras, and wave gaily into the crowd. Only Gale, who knows me best, would know my smile is fake.

Knew me best.

Prim forces her way through the crowd and slams into me. She is taller than I remember. Is it possible that she could have grown in the weeks since I’d been gone? I clutch her to me with desperation, pressing my face to her shining blonde hair so that the others won’t be able to see my tears.

My mother is there too, and she kisses me on the cheek. I give her a hug as well, and I am surprised to find that I’ve actually missed her, too.

I feel another hand on my shoulder and turn to find Gale’s mother Hazelle, and behind her, Gale’s brothers and sister. I feel a flood of guilt and pain wash over me, that her son is not here in my stead. I start to apologize, for what, I don’t know, but she stops me with a hug. She releases me and I receive hugs from her remaining children. None of them blame me and I’m grateful for it. I wish that I didn’t blame me.

I look up, expecting to see Peeta Mellark next. But no, there is Greasy Sae, and some of the others I’ve known from the Hob, clapping me on the back, congratulating me and telling me that they’re glad I’m home. In spite of myself, I’m distracted. Why hasn’t Peeta come to greet me? Did I dream everything he said to me at the Justice Building before the Games?

I think back to that day. I had just volunteered for Prim, Effie had pulled Peeta’s name and Gale had volunteered for him. There had been a huge sensation. Two volunteers from Twelve? That’s got to be the first time in the history of the Hunger Games that that has happened. Effie was beside herself with glee, thinking I’m sure of the publicity we would receive.

I was visited by my mother and Prim, and then to my surprise, Madge Undersee, the mayor’s daughter. She gave me the Mockingjay pin that I wore in the arena at her request.

When the door opened for a fourth time to admit Peeta Mellark, I was completely speechless. Peeta and I had never even said two words to each other. He did save my life when we were kids, risking a beating from his mother to bring me the bread that kept me and my family alive, but since then we have had no more interaction than passing glances in the hall.

Imagine my surprise when he told me that he’d been in love with me since we were little kids, and again, only moments later, when he gave me my first kiss.

If I’m honest with myself, I spent more than a little time before, during and after the Games wondering about him. Whenever I would think of home I would remember with a start. What a strange thing to have waiting for you back at home… something I had never thought to have.

But he is not here waiting. Perhaps he didn’t mean it after all.

**

That night, I wake screaming in my new bed in the house in Victor’s Village from a nightmare of dying Tributes, Tracker Jackers and wolf-mutts. Prim and my mother both come rushing in but there is nothing to fix. The pain is inside my mind. 

Sleep is no longer an option at this point. I wait until the sun is starting to creep over the horizon, then I grab my game bag and head for the fence. I listen carefully for the telltale buzz that lets me know the fence is live, and when all I hear is the sounds of the rustling trees and the birds awakening, I slip under.

I retrieve my bow from its hiding place and start out with the thought of resetting some of the snares that we left before the Games. I get as far as the rock ledge that overlooks the valley - our place, Gale’s and mine - before I break down. I can’t do this, can’t imagine doing anything, without him.

I sob and cry and make horrible dying animal noises, until finally I can’t cry anymore. I am empty. I wedge myself into a crevice within the rock and stare at nothing.

Hours pass. I have no idea how many. I am so still for so long that the game begins to wander into my path, first a squirrel and then a rabbit, and too many birds to count, but I do not have the strength or the desire to pick up my bow and shoot them. Let me wither and die here, in this place that was ours, and then I will never have to miss him again.

It is nearly dark when he finds me. I can hear him before I see him, and for a moment I imagine it is a bear come to savage me, but I don’t bother to move or hide. Let it come and kill me. But it’s not a bear; it’s Peeta. 

He is so noisy that it almost seems like he is doing it on purpose. His boots crunch in the deadfall, seeming to find every stick and pile of dried leaves on the forest floor. It is so opposite from Gale’s silent hunter’s tread. He comes into view and I observe him, keeping silent in my hiding place. He could not look more different from Gale either, shorter and stockier, with the blonde hair and blue eyes and pale skin of a merchant boy. At the moment, those blue eyes are filled with worry.

I shift and he jumps, clearly startled, having not seen me in my hiding place. He gasps “Katniss!” and leaps forward to help me out. My limbs are stiff from remaining curled in the same position all day. For the first time I notice that my hands and feet are freezing.

“What are you doing out here by yourself!” 

“Hunting,” I say dully.

He looks around and sees my bow and empty game bag, cast off to the side. Guess I’m not fooling him. And who cares, anyway?

“What are you doing here?” I ask, not really caring. It is just such a strange sight, the baker’s son out in the woods. I think I should be suspicious, but I can’t muster the energy for that emotion.

He takes my hand and pulls. “Looking for you, silly,” he says.

I have just enough energy to roll my eyes. “But why are you looking for me?”

“I went by your house and your mother and Prim were worried about you. They said you’d been gone all day and they were starting to get really worried, and then Prim said you had probably gone into the woods. I didn’t want her out here looking for you so I offered to come check.” There is something wrong with his story but in my cold, befuddled state, I can’t put my finger on it. 

He gets me out of the crevice and sits down beside me. “Why did you stop here, anyway? You didn’t get very far in.”

Normally I wouldn’t say anything but my mind is exhausted and my shields aren’t as strong as usual. “This was our place,” I say dully, “Mine and Gale’s.

He nods, and I think that he’s guessed that already. “You miss him,” he says. I nod. I feel like crying but I don’t have any tears left.

Without looking at me, Peeta reaches out and takes my hand. His is big and warm and engulfs mine completely. It’s comforting.

“Why did he do it?” I burst suddenly. “We had a deal! If one of us was ever reaped, the other was supposed to stay to take care of their family. He left both our families with nothing, all those kids… how could he do it?”

Peeta glances at me sideways. “You really don’t know do you? The effect you have.”

I look at him sharply, trying to decide if he is mocking me. 

“He loved you, Katniss,” he explains. “He just wanted to have a chance to help you make it home.”

“There is- was-” I correct myself “nothing between Gale and me.” But I can’t help but wonder. Might it have been more, if I had been more open to the idea of marriage and a family? If there had been no Games?

It is too much, thinking of him again. A dry sob escapes my lips and I draw my knees up to my chest, covering my eyes with my free hand.

When Peeta speaks again, there is anguish in his voice. “I wish… I just wish he hadn’t volunteered. That he had let me go into the Games. I would have fought to keep you alive too, but then he’d still be here for you when you got back. You could’ve been happy together.”

I remove my hand from my eyes and look at him. I realize that he blames himself for my sadness. Somehow, absurdly, he thinks that Gale being gone is his fault.

“Don’t be stupid, Peeta. It’s not your fault that Gale volunteered.”

“I know that,” he says, and his eyes are so sad that I wish I knew some kind of comforting words to say to him. “But it really hurts me to see you this upset, and I still feel responsible, somehow.”

An awkward silence falls. Then he says, “Listen, Katniss, since we’re here, I want to apologize to you. For what I said before the Games. I mean, it’s obvious that you don’t return my feelings.”

I open my mouth to say- what?- but he holds up a hand to stop me. “It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to. I only told you because I just couldn’t stand the thought of never having told you how I feel, if…” his voice trails off but we both know what he was going to say.

“I just want to let you know that you don’t have to worry about it. That’s why I didn’t come to meet you at the train station yesterday. Just because I told you I loved you doesn’t have to change anything, and you don’t need to feel sorry for me. I won’t let it get in the way of things if you won’t.” He flashes me a smile that is exactly the right combination of shy and sweet and something flutters in my stomach. What was that?

“But maybe, if you’re okay with it, we can just be friends?”

I think for a moment. I don’t know how I feel about this. I certainly had no idea what to do with the thought of him being in love with me, and I am almost as resistant to the thought of being friends. I don’t really have friends, with the exception of Prim, who’s my sister, and Madge and… Gale…. who is gone. Forever.

No. I won’t think of Gale anymore. I won’t.

I decide that it can’t hurt. “Okay,” I answer.

He smiles that smile again. “So, you’ll allow it?”

I can’t help it. I smile too. “I’ll allow it.”

“Let’s get you home,” he says gently, releasing my hand and getting to his feet. I try to stand too but immediately stumble. He catches me and scoops me up as if I weigh no more than a child.

I think I should be upset at being held by this boy, this relative stranger, but he’s just so warm that I can’t think of a reason to protest. I lie limply in his grasp, my head lolling against his shoulder.

As he walks (noisily) I can feel the strong muscles of his broad chest moving with his stride. It is a fair ways back but he doesn’t tire, even burdened with me as he is. The fence comes into view and he asks, “Can you get under the fence on your own?” I can feel his voice vibrating through his chest against my cheek. 

“Yes,” I say, and he puts me down so I can slide underneath. He follows with a little more difficulty, wriggling his broad shoulders under the gap.

We’re both on the other side now and I have warmed up enough and regained the strength to stand. He does wrap one arm securely around my waist, though, and together, we start the trek back to Victor’s Village. 

We pass Hazelle, on her way home from collecting some of the laundry that needed to be done around town. She takes in Peeta and myself and the way that his arm is wrapped around me. A little smile touches her lips but she doesn’t comment. “‘Evening, Peeta, Katniss. Catch anything today?”

Shame washes over me as I remember all those kids, left behind. I shake my head. “I’m so sorry,” I mumble.

Hazelle’s eyes are sad and I know she is remembering Gale, too. “Don’t worry about us, Katniss. We’re doing fine.” She smiles at Peeta and then continues on her way.

My brain is starting to wake up. “What was that about?” I ask him. “I didn’t think you were on first name terms with the Hawthornes.”

He shrugs; I can feel the movement of the arm that he’s got wrapped around me. “We’ve met,” he says vaguely.

When we get near the bakery, I ask him if we should go a different way in case his mother sees, but he tells me they’ve closed the bakery for the day and his room above the bakery is the only one that faces the street. Besides, he doesn’t care if anyone sees us.

We are almost home now and I think I’ve recovered enough to walk on my own, but I don’t tell him. He is so warm and now that my body is awake, I can register how nice it feels to be tucked under his arm, pressed against his side. He smells good too, like warm bread and something else that is distinctly and uniquely Peeta.

We reach our new house in Victor’s Village and he opens the door with his free hand and helps me inside. 

“Katniss!” There is a blur of blonde hair as Prim launches herself at me and catches me around the middle. Peeta slides his arm out from around my waist so I can hug her back. When she looks up at me, there are tears in her eyes.

“Prim, what’s wrong?”

“You can’t do that anymore!” she sobs. “You can’t go away like that!” She’s so upset. I realize that I’ve done yet another selfish thing. I have returned from the Games, scarred and broken on the inside and out, and the first night of being home, I disappear. 

I hug Prim harder and kiss her on the top of her head. “I’m so sorry Prim,” I whisper, tears springing to my own eyes. “I won’t ever do that again, I promise.” I squeeze my eyes closed and feel, rather than see her nod.

My mother comes out of the kitchen and hugs me too, and then, to my surprise, she hugs Peeta as well.

“Thank you,” she says to him. “It seems we owe you another debt.”

He smiles kindly but shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Anytime.”

“Yes, well, let’s hope you won’t have to do it too many more times,” my Mother says, shooting me a look. He laughs. To my astonishment, Prim disengages from me and hugs Peeta too, beaming wetly up at him.

He takes one of her pigtails in each of his hands and gives a little tug and she giggles, smacking him on the arm. He laughs.

“Well, I’ll leave you girls to it. Have a good night, Everdeens!”

“Bye, Peeta!” my mother and Prim chime together as he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

“Bye,” I add belatedly.

I don’t know how to process this easy familiarity between the baker’s son and my family. Before the reaping we had never spoken, even though he says he’s loved me since we were very small, and yet I return from the Games and he is on speaking terms with both my mother and sister? And Hazelle, too, I remember with a shock.

My mother goes into the kitchen to finish fixing dinner, and I take Prim’s hand and sit down at the couch with her. “Prim, what’s going on? Why was Peeta here today?”

“He brought us bread,” she answers.

“Bread?” I ask blankly.

“Yes, Katniss, bread. From the bakery.” She says it deliberately as if I am slow. Which I suppose I am. 

“But… why?” 

Prim’s brow wrinkles in confusion. “He didn’t tell you? Peeta has been bringing us bread every day since the reaping.” I am speechless. “Rory said he’s been bringing it to their family, too,” she continues. “Since you and Gale were both gone, we all would’ve gone hungry but Peeta made sure we had bread to eat every day.”

I look closer at Prim and notice how her cheeks are pink and healthy, her collar bones not protruding from her chest like they usually do when the food has been scarce. I think of the bruise that colored Peeta’s face the day after he gave me bread the first time and I think of what it must have cost him to take enough for two families from the bakery stores.

I find my voice again. “Why would he do something like that?” I ask her.

Prim is four years my junior but the loss of her father and seeing her sister go through the games has aged her beyond her years. She looks at me with kindness in her eyes. “Don’t you know?” she asks.

We have fresh bread with our dinner tonight.

Afterwards, I Iie awake in bed. This time, it is not thoughts of the Games that plague my mind, but of Peeta Mellark. He has been looking after my family and Gale’s since the Capitol took us away. What kind of punishment did the Witch inflict upon him for taking so much bread? Surely he did not have her permission. 

I toss and turn in my bed, trying to get comfortable but it’s no use. I can’t sleep. I can’t think how I can ever repay him.

Suddenly I’m angry. I don’t want to owe this strange, merchant boy anything. And I owe him so much now that the ledger will never be balanced. My life, the lives of my family. The lives of Gale’s. I dress again and storm out into the night. I think I need to give the Boy with the Bread a piece of my mind.

I throw pebbles at his window until he appears, bleary from sleep.

“Katniss? What are you doing here?”

“Come down,” I hiss, “I need to talk to you.”

He disappears, and a moment later, appears at the door. “What’s wrong?” he asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Not here,” I say tersely. I storm off and he follows me, for the second time that day, under the fence and into the woods.

“Should we be out here at night?” he asks mildly. 

I ignore him. “Why did you do it?” I shout at him.

“What, come looking for you today? I told you, Prim was worried-“

I make a furious hand gesture, cutting him off. “No, not that! You know what I’m talking about! The bread, Peeta! Why did you bring my family and Gale’s family bread while I was gone?”

He blinks. “I wanted to help. I knew that with both of you gone, they wouldn’t be getting enough to eat.” I am pacing back and forth in front of him, agitated. “Why are you so upset?” he asks.

Good question. I don’t know, really. “Shut up! ” I yell at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t want you to think I was doing it to impress you. Or to feel like you had to owe me. I didn’t do it to win you over, if that’s what you’re thinking.” His voice is soft.

I stop moving and look straight into his eyes. For some reason, my chest is tight, like I am having trouble breathing. “Why did you do it?” I whisper.

His eyes flit away from mine now, just like they always did in school. “You know why.”

I have never been in love before. My only experience with love is from watching my mother and father when I was young. Is this what people in love do? My heart is pounding in my chest. “Do you still… you know…?” I can’t say the words.

He laughs a short, mirthless laugh. “Do I still love you?” My throat has gone dry, so I just nod.

“Katniss, I fell in love with you the first time I heard you sing. I didn’t even have to know you, or speak to you, or spend any time with you at all to know there was something special about you. And now… now I’ve seen how your sister dotes on you, I’ve seen how well you took care of your family. I saw you sing for the little girl, Rue, in the Games and cry for her when she was gone. How could I help but love you even more?”

He is silent for a heartbeat, and then he says, “Katniss, there will never be anyone else. You’re it for me.”

I stare at him, my heart pounding in my throat. I don’t know what to say to him, even if I could process what I’m thinking right now. I find myself moving toward him and my hands are coming up to touch his face. His eyes meet mine and they are startled, but there is something else in them too, something like longing. That look makes heat surge through my stomach and without thinking I stretch up on my toes towards him.

The last time we kissed, the day of the Reaping, was nice enough. This time, though, is something entirely different.

This time, I initiate it, and the heat in my stomach spreads through my body when my lips meet his. He stiffens in surprise, but then his hands come around me, one sliding up my back to knot in my hair and the other around my waist. He pulls me close and all I can feel is Peeta, Peeta, Peeta, his warmth and that smell engulfing me. My lips part and I can feel his tongue in my mouth and my hands are tangled in the blond waves of his hair, and he is clutching my body to his as if I might disappear. The hard lines of his body feel so good pressed up against mine and I don’t want to let go. I can feel him stirring against my hip and the knowledge makes me burn even hotter.

Far too soon, I feel him starting to withdraw. Very gently he loosens his hold on me, his big, warm hands sliding up my arms to disentangle them from his hair. He plants a warm kiss on the top of my head and I can feel his smile, huge against my hair. I am smiling too.

He walks me home and kisses me goodnight. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, his voice full of a promise that sends the fire flooding through my veins again and a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with cold. I go up to my strange new bed and lie awake for hours before falling asleep. And for the first time since I returned from the Capitol, I don’t dream of the Games.

Tonight, I dream of Peeta.

**

The days pass with a wonderfully mundane regularity. The first parcel day comes and goes, and with that and my winnings, spread as far as I can make them go, the District thrives, for once.

I am still haunted by the Games, but when I wake up to nightmares of blood and fear and death, I go to Peeta and find comfort in his arms. The horror is still there, but when I am with him, I can forget, for a few blissful hours, and be thankful that I am alive.

Unfortunately, we cannot continue this way for long. The Victory Tour is fast approaching, and I will be back in the clutches of the Capitol, and I cannot take Peeta with me to keep me sane. I will have to face the Games again, look into the eyes of the families of those whose lives I have taken. I don’t know if I can do it.

Then the day before the Tour begins, I come home to find President Snow waiting for me. I stare into those snakelike eyes in shock, and my whole body tenses up automatically. I fight the urge to step back, run away, attack, do something, anything. My fingers itch for my bow, hidden safely in the woods.

“Good afternoon, Katniss,” he says genially.

“President,” I answer carefully. “What a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He smiles, his revoltingly full lips parting over overly white, straight teeth. “I’m here to ensure that you are not going to be…. difficult.”

Difficult? How? I don’t understand what he means, and it must show on his face because he continues. “Ah, I see your mentor must not have prepared you for your next… task.”

“The Victory Tour?” I scoff. “Of course, Haymitch told me about that. We’ve been preparing-“

He cuts me off shaking his head. “Oh no, that’s not what I mean. I have other plans for you.” He watches me, unblinking as if to gauge my reactions. “You see, there are those in the Capitol who desire you. So many hearts were set aflame when you rolled through the City Circle. Then in your interview, you were so beautiful in that stunning dress, and so charming with the story about your sister. And then in the Games, so swift and deadly. As soon as you were crowned Victor, they began lining up at my door.”

A chill goes through me. “Lining up for what?” I whisper.

“For you of course. For the chance to bed the Girl on Fire.”

Anger and fear surge up inside me like boiling oil and I can feel it, just below the surface. My hands ball up into fists at my sides, nails digging into the palms of my hands. I surprise myself by saying calmly “I won’t do it. There’s no way you can make me.”

Snow smiles mockingly, those dead eyes fixed on mine. “Actually I can. There are people that you care about. Your mother. Your sister. The boy you have been spending so much time with, the baker’s son.” He shakes his head. “It would be nothing for me to arrange their deaths.”

My blood runs cold. How does he know about Peeta? He must have spies among the District Twelve Citizens. And would he do that, kill innocents just to ensure my cooperation? But this is the man who orchestrates the Hunger Games and is responsible for the annual deaths of twenty three innocent children. The man has no morals; of course he would.

“The first of your suitors will see you on the Tour, when you come to the Capitol,” he continues. “I hope, for the sake of those you love, that you will choose to co-operate. I don’t make empty promises. If you don’t believe me, you can ask your mentor.”

On his way out the door, he turns with a smile. “Have a nice few days, Katniss. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you on the Tour.” And then he is gone.

**

My first stop is Haymitch’s house. After I have roused him from his alcohol induced stupor, he confirms what I have feared. Snow has done this with other Victors in the past. When they wanted to sell Haymitch, he refused, and they killed everyone he loved in punishment.

No, Snow has no problem killing to suit his needs.

I consider running away, of making the others run with me. Haymitch just laughs when I tell him my plan. “C’mon sweetheart. Do you really think you could escape with all those people? They’d find you.”

But there is real pity in his eyes when he says, “I’m sorry, Katniss.”

I don’t tell my mother or my sister. I want to spare them the knowledge of this awful reality. They have seen me suffer enough without having to share in this horror.

That night, I lie awake in my bed. I am thinking of the families I will begin to face starting tomorrow, of the deaths I will have to remember. And now, I am thinking of my own virtue, which will be taken from me by the Capitol.

I have not given much thought to sex. With the Games constantly looming over us, I have never given it much thought, knowing that I would never have children and risk them having to go into the Games themselves.

But now, now I have to think about it. And I am paralyzed with terror and with anger at the thought of giving up my virginity to one of the repulsive creatures from the Capitol. They have already stolen the lives of hundreds of kids. They have lived in luxury while we in the Districts lived in poverty and oppression. They have made me live in fear, made me into a killer, and taken away my best friend, all for the sake of their perverted Games. I will not let them take this away from me, too.

If I have to have sex, I know who I want to share it with.

Before I know that I have decided, I am outside in the snow, running. 

I wake Peeta by throwing a snowball at his window and he comes down to me, as he has done so many times before. Wordlessly I take his hand and lead him to one of the abandoned houses in Victor’s Village. He protests a little when I smash the window and break in, but I silence him with my mouth on his. 

I touch every part of him that I can, letting my fingers learn the smooth, hard curves of his muscles. I let my fingers tangle in his hair as they have done so often before. I kiss his mouth, his ear, his neck, his collar bone.

I pull back for a moment but only to unzip my jacket and let it fall on the carpeted floor. He does the same with his and moves back to take me in his arms but stops suddenly as I pull my shirt over my head.

“Katniss, what are you doing?” he asks, swallowing hard. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I ask with a smirk. His eyes are wide as I slide out of my pants too. 

“Katniss, stop!”

I stand in front of him in only my underwear. His eyes are burning and his hands are clenched into fists at his side. I step up to him and take his hands, placing them on my waist. I raise my lips to his neck and start to kiss him again, drawing a line up his neck to his jaw. He moans involuntarily as I continue, sliding my hands under his shirt.

“Peeta…” I say in between kisses, my voice low with passion, “I have to go away tomorrow. On the Victory Tour. And I want… I want to be with you before I go. I want to be able to remember your smell and the way you feel and how you hold me.”

I feel a surge of heat in my stomach and lower down when my eyes meet his; there is so much fire there. That he wants me is clear. “Katniss, don’t be vague. I need you to say it. Say it so there’s no doubt.”

I look back into his eyes, and in a moment of boldness that surprises us both, I reach down between us and slide my hand over his hardness through his pants. He gasps.

“Peeta.” I whisper huskily, “I want you to make love to me. Tonight.”

He closes his eyes and tilts his head upwards in supplication. His breathing is rough. “Why tonight? What’s changed?”

I know I can’t tell him about Snow’s ultimatum, and what I am being forced to do. I know that he would never let them take me if he knew what was at stake, and I have to go, to save him, to save Prim and my mother. So instead I tell him something else, the other truth, something I have known for a while. 

I take his face in my hands and force him to meet my eyes, and say, “I love you, too.”

He surrenders with a groan, bringing his lips down to mine again. Now his hands are everywhere, caressing my skin, tangling in my hair, and his lips, his lips are searing my skin everywhere they touch. 

I drag his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor behind him and sliding my hands down his chest. I feel the flat planes of his stomach beneath my palms as I move them down his body. His breath comes hot and hard against my neck where he is laying ragged kisses as I undo his pants and let them fall.

He draws me down to the floor, and we lie together on our piled coats. His hands trembling, he reaches behind my head and undoes my braid, pulling his fingers through the waves. He is beautiful, his pale skin and ashy hair painted silver in the moonlight and his eyes shining with desire. I slide my hands into his shorts and ease them off, and he does the same with my bra and panties. 

We are naked together, Peeta and I. His eyes devour my body as I do with his, and then he is kissing me again. He is fierce and tender at the same time, passionate and gentle. His big hands skim my body, caressing my neck, my breasts, my hips, sliding down my stomach and down…

I moan at his touch, pressing against him urgently. My legs wind around his and I can feel his desire, heavy against my thigh. I am on fire- I need him.

“Peeta,” I say between gasping breaths, “now.”

“Katniss,” he breathes in answer, and plunges into me.

There is a sharp pain and then a feeling of fullness, but I want this and I don’t want him to stop. He moves slowly and gently, one hand in my hair and the other stroking the curve of my breast. I ignore the pain and surrender to the sensation of him inside me, of his hands on me. I rake my fingers down his back, feeling the muscles tensing and releasing as he moves above me. And all the while his lips never leave mine.

I feel him start to move faster, hear his breath coming quicker and I know he is nearing the end. “Look at me, Peeta,” I whisper, taking his face in my hands and lifting my hips to meet his.

His eyes snap open and as they meet mine he shudders, crying out my name. 

Breathing hard, he lays his head beside mine. We are still joined. I hold him close, kissing his cheek, his jaw, the side of his neck.

“I love you,” he whispers raggedly. 

I smile, and answer, “I love you, too”.

And I know, lying here with him that whatever happens on the Tour and after, I have staged my own small rebellion against Snow and the Capitol. No matter what else they try to take from me, this they can never take because it is already gone.

I gave it freely to the boy I love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read this story! I hope you enjoyed it! If you did enjoy it, stay tuned as I am hoping to continue this work with one or more parts.


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